


Base of Support

by interabang



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2418011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interabang/pseuds/interabang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Guardians discover that Yondu would do anything (when he feels like it) to give Peter help when he needs it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Base of Support

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Written for the GotG Kink Meme (prompt [here](http://guardian-kink.livejournal.com/1806.html?thread=1008910#t1008910).) 
> 
> 2) Thank you to HungryHufflepuff for betaing!

1.

They were bartering a few of Rocket's makeshift weapons for spare parts to repair the  _Milano_ , and to Gamora’s silent disapproval, Peter and Rocket were arguing. Again.

"Why do you, just, why?" Peter asked. "It's becoming a cycle, Rocket. An abusive one, between you and the ship!"

"I told you how bored I get, Quill. Need something to do with my hands."

"Well, why don't you just _buy_ the parts you want instead of using what we need? You knew we were gonna have to trade your stuff anyway. Just like the last three times!"

As they sniped at each other across the trading table, Groot covered what must have been his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. Gamora threw her hands up in exasperation and turned to head back to the ship when she heard something like a small explosion from behind her. She whirled around, her heartrate quickening and eyes immediately tracking her group, settling on Peter wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Rocket curled his upper lip in a display of disgust. "Cover your mouth next time, Humie; this here's a reputable establishment. And like I've said before, you should think of this as recycling. Ain't that supposed to be good for the environment and all that —"

Gamora lost track of what Rocket was saying as she was suddenly jostled to one side, so severely that she almost stumbled to the ground. "Hey!" she snapped, stalking back to give whoever had bumped into her a piece of her mind.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw who had bumped into her in his hurry to get to Peter:

Yondu.

Gamora abruptly stopped right beside Drax, and both of them looked on in mild trepidation as the Ravager strode up to Peter and lifted his hand up, brandishing a small blue square of fabric.

"Here you go, son."

Peter looked down, took the cloth and said, "Thanks," distractedly before he exhaled on it sharply through his nose. He turned to resume arguing with Rocket, and blinked, glancing back at where Yondu... had just been, because he was pushing his way past the crowded open market.

"Uh oh," Peter said, clutching the little blue cloth.

* * *

 2.

Drax was confused.

He wasn't normally bothered enough to be confused, but when he wanted to be, he wouldn't hesitate to voice his concerns.

"I still don't understand what happened earlier," he said as he and the others sat down to dinner aboard the ship. This was becoming a routine amongst his new friends. They had to interrupt their conversation many times to explain something they had just said to him, especially Quill. He was occasionally reticent or visibly irritated at Drax's requests for clarification, but other times he seemed happy to explain what he meant.

This time was different. Peter was resting his head on his hands, his elbows on the table as he stared down at his stew. He didn't look angry because of Drax; rather, he seemed upset about something else.

"I sneezed," he said - Drax noticed that Peter's voice sounded strange, like he was having trouble breathing. "God, this is just what I need."

Drax didn't think so.

"You're not getting sick, are you?" Rocket asked. Drax started to feel as vaguely worried as Gamora looked; his people rarely suffered ailments, but when they did succumb to disease, it was almost always fatal.

"I think I am, actually," Peter said. "Don't worry, it's probably not serious."

Drax accepted that, but moved a bit so he wasn't sitting as close to Peter.

"So..." Rocket said. 

"So, what?" Peter asked, sniffling and picking up his spoon.

"You gonna tell us what that was all about back there? Yondu and your little hankie?"

"Oh." Peter paused, then answered, "No." 

"Why not?" Rocket asked, but Peter was distracted by loudly dropping his spoon on the floor. Drax thought it was accidental, but he couldn't be sure. Quill leaned over and began to pick up his utensial, but Groot, who was three-quarters his previous size, had already curled his branches around a clean spoon from the drying rack near the sink and gave it to Peter. "Thanks, man."

"... Does Yondu do this every time you're ill?" Gamora asked after a few moments of silence, save for the sound of clinking spoons and Groot drinking water through a curved, colorful straw.

"No," Peter said quickly, then when he noticed everyone was staring at him, he sighed and put his spoon down next to his bowl. "Only when he's in a really good mood, which hasn't been in, like, ten years. I don't know, it's a thing of his. The last time he did this, he _might've_ gotten a little overprotective, but it's nothing any of you have to —" he suddenly stopped to draw a sharp intake of breath, shutting his eyes. He did this a couple more times, then sighed. "Whew! Anyway, we don't have to worry about him, or me getting sick."

"I still don't understand," Drax said as Rocket laughed from across the table.

"I don't, either," Gamora said. "Peter, Yondu was going to _kill you_."

"Yeah, well, so were you," Peter grumbled as he grabbed his spoon and dipped it into his bowl. "Water under the bridge, you know? Anyway, like I said, there's no need to worry. It's all gonna be — ah, hah, _Atchoo_!" He sneezed again right into his stew, spraying flecks of it all over the table.

Drax and the others cried out in disgust as Peter weakly apologized, but they all fell silent when they heard the signal of an incoming call. Gamora stood up and went to go answer it.

" _Quill_!"

"Oh, fuck me," Peter said. Drax glared at him suspiciously. This was not the first time Peter had tried to seduce his teammates, but it was still wrong for him to attempt such a thing.

"I know you ain't feeling right, boy!" Yondu shouted over the loudspeaker. "Let me come onto your ship. I know what clears you up in a jiffy!"

"Is he..." Gamora started to ask.

"Right next to us!" Rocket said, for he had swiftly joined Gamora at the communications screen and tapped the button that accessed the ship's external cameras. Rocket enlarged the screen, showing the Ravager's fleet floating in space next to the _Milano_.

"Yondu, I'm fine," Peter said loudly, then paused to sneeze again into his cupped hands. "Honest." Drax moved even farther away from him, but left his bowl alone.

"You open up your hatch right now, or so help me I'll..."

They argued some more. Drax was not certain of exactly how long because he ceased to pay attention to their yammering and cleaned the table. Groot helped him, and when Yondu entered the ship, Drax decided to pay attention again.

Yondu was carrying a bowl of something that smelled quite delicious, and set it down in front of Peter.

"Really? You followed us all this way to bring me soup?" Peter asked.

"Best in the galaxy, as you know," Yondu said, clearly proud of his culinary skills. "You eat that up right now, while it's nice and hot. Rest of you want some? I got pots full of it on my ship."

Drax and the other three exchanged glances, then Rocket said, "Sure, why not. Sneeze-Lord here ruined our meal, anyway."

"Be just a moment." Before Yondu turned away, he stopped next to Peter, handing him a new spoon. "When I come back, I better see this bowl half empty, you hear?"

"Yeah, yeah," Peter muttered, pushing around Yondu's soup with his spoon. "Whatever."

"I mean it," Yondu warned before exiting the craft back to his. "Half empty, else I'm feeding it to you myself."

"Okay, now _that_ I wanna see," Rocket whispered.

It was one of the few times Drax agreed with him.

* * *

3.

Peter was doing better these days, but they had landed on a very cold planet and Groot wasn't sure it was the best idea for Peter to join them on this outing. He told Rocket as much, but Rocket dismissed his concerns, saying, "If the great and powerful Star-Lord can't handle it, he don't deserve the title."

Groot huffed a little and Gamora protested, but Peter insisted on trekking out into the icy mountains to help the others deliver a large care crate to a couple of Nova Corps employees who were on a scouting expedition. After completing their mission, they headed back out quickly, despite the scouts' insistence that they stay. Whether it was because they tried to pet Rocket - who barely held himself back from snarling at them - or because they kept asking to hold Gamora's and Drax's weapons, Groot wasn't sure. He was simply thankful he was almost back to his normal size and that Rocket could ride on his shoulders again, especially on the arduous trek back to the safely docked ship. He wished he could carry all the others, but they would have probably refused. They were very stubborn that way.

About halfway back to the ship, Peter moaned and stumbled sideways, regained his footing in the snow, then fell flat on his face.

"Quill!"

"Peter! Are you okay?"

Groot was closest to him so he lowered himself, pulling Peter into a sitting position right in front of him so he could lean back against Groot's moss. Peter squirmed in his embrace, moaning, "No, don't, I'm sweating buckets here, man."

"I don't see any of them," Drax said, looking around the area.

"Keep him warm," Rocket advised. "It's better that way."

Peter kept protesting, but Groot - himself very stubborn when it came to helping his friends - hugged Peter more tightly and considered generating his light spores for extra heat. Still perched on Groot's shoulder, Rocket leaned down to put one of his small hands on Peter's forehead. "Yeah, looks like it's a fever this time."

"I told you not to come!" Gamora said, stomping one of her boots in the slush left by Groot's tracks. "You should have stayed on the ship."

"I do a lot of things I shouldn't, remember?" Peter said, turning toward her. She smiled a little, then quickly reset her lips to a determined line and looked at Groot. "Can you carry him?"

"No, don’t, I'm fine; I just need a minute," Peter said, then jerked forward against Groot's branches, coughing deeply and with such force, his back shook.

Snow started to fall around them then, in thick, fast flakes. Groot didn't know what to do, so he unwound one of his arms and patted Peter gently on the back while he coughed. Groot looked at Rocket for instructions. Rocket looked at Gamora, and Gamora looked at Drax.

Something large and wooden hit Drax on the head.

Shouting in surprise and anger, he whirled around and drew his weapons in an instant, looking up. “What is that?"

"It's a ladder!" Rocket cried. "Must be Yondu. Grab onto it!"

"Oh, no, if we go up there he’ll never stop fussing over me," Peter said hoarsely, then coughed again as Groot picked him up. Peter must have felt a lot worse than he sounded, because he stopped struggling.

"Gotta say, it's a good thing Yondu cares so much about you, wittle baby Peter," Rocket said with a chuckle, tucking his body close against Groot’s shoulders so he wouldn’t be knocked about by the wind.

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing you can bite me," Peter said as Groot held him securely in one long arm and climbed up the bottom rungs of the ladder.

Drax rubbed the top of his head. "Why would you want him to do that? You're in enough pain as it is."

Pulling himself up the ladder so the others could climb up after him, Groot remained silent. He too was glad Yondu was around to help out Peter when the Guardians couldn't.

* * *

4.

"Ow! Damnit, Rocket!"

Rocket's ear twitched as he heard Quill cry out in pain. He rolled his eyes and left his room in the complimentary suite they were staying at near Nova HQ. Morning sunlight began to peek in through the blinds, and Groot remained slumbering heavily against the far wall of their room.

Peter was in the common area, dressed in his sleeping clothes and rubbing his foot over a half-finished bomb as he balanced on his other foot. A toothbrush was sticking out of his mouth, framed by white froth as he glared down at Rocket.

"Can't you go one week without getting your ass kicked?" Rocket snapped.

Peter lowered his injured foot and started to kick the bomb, then stopped at the last second. He took his toothbrush out of his mouth and said, his words partially garbled, "Not when you leave your little 'projects' lying around!"

"I told you I wasn't going to keep using up the precious _Milano's_ equipment," Rocket said, bristling as Peter hobbled over to the kitchen sink and spat. "Never said I'd quit working on my stuff."

Peter jabbed his toothbrush down in Rocket's direction. "You can work on your stuff all you want, you just need to find a better place to put it!"

"Why can't you just watch where you're going, like any normal person?"

"Look," Peter said, "this is —"

Suddenly, the door slammed open and Peter's big blue - stepfather, kidnapper, boyfriend, Rocket didn't know for sure and didn't really care - came stomping in.

He scanned the room and immediately narrowed his eyes when he saw Peter, sucked his teeth, and said, "Aw, hell."

Then, before Rocket could do anything, he sprinted forward and...

 _Tackled_ Peter.

Peter slammed down on his back, groaning loudly as the others poured into the common area, matching looks of sleepy disbelief on their faces.

"Let me up!" Peter cried at Yondu. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You just relax now, Mr. Quill. We'll get you straightened out. I knew you hurt yourself somehow, but not like this. You got it, didn’t you? The _Fosja_?”

Peter's eyes widened. “The what, now?”

“Oh, man," Rocket groaned, smacking himself in the face and dragging his hand down. "He means space rabies.”

“What? No, I don't have that! Look.” Peter strained to lift his arm up and wiped a little foam from the corner of his mouth, then held it up to Yondu's nose. "See? It's not what you think. And since when were you ever this strong?"

Yondu kept holding him down. Turning his head to the side, toward Gamora, he said, "Doesn't know what he's sayin'. They all end up delirious like this, sooner or later. Well, what're you standing there for? Call someone for help!" He looked back down at Quill. "Something bit you lately?” He yanked down Peter’s collar to check for marks. “Told you you shouldn’t’ve gone down to Sepp Volov, it's got them huge, wild Silhallyls roaming around. You could be dead within a day if you don't protect yourself against their big, nasty teeth.”

“For the last time, I do _not_ have space rabies. Get. Out!” Quill even threatened to have Drax throw Yondu out, but Drax leaned back against a wall, watching Yondu hold Peter down with an expression Rocket could've sworn was a mixture between impressed and amused.

"You'll need someone to monitor you until we can tell this is clear from your system," Drax said. "He's trying to help you, Peter. Let him."

"God, I hate you all so much right now," Peter raged, bits of foam flying from his mouth as Gamora finally gave up and called for a medic. Rocket enjoyed the sight too, so much so that he decided to find a box for his stuff.

After the show would be over, of course.

* * *

5.

It was shaping up to be a pretty awesome battle, if Peter said so himself. Now that he was back to fighting form, he took advantage of it and was dishing out as much pain as he'd been suffering lately. No one could accuse him of being a weakling now!

He zapped a pair of thugs with his guns and whirled around just in time to see a really tall, mean-looking dude aiming a really long, mean-looking sword right at him.

Peter automatically squeezed the trigger of his right gun as he was shoved to the ground. He couldn't help shouting in pain at the force of the impact, and lay there dazed as he heard the sounds of others approaching. The weight of his opponent lightened and then was lifted clear off as Peter groaned, sitting up and examining the damage that was done to him.

Turned out it was Groot and Gamora who had joined him, gaping in shock. Groot tossed the sword-wielding asshole aside as Gamora cried out, “Peter! Are you all right?”

“No, I'm not!” Peter wheezed, holding up his hand. "Look at what the shitbeard did to me!"

A small pinprick of blood trickled down his pinkie.

"That's... all he did to you," Gamora said, her voice flat. "From where we were standing, it looked like he sliced off your arm."

"Well, it still hurts!" Peter said. "We good here?"

"I am Groot."

"Drax and Rocket are finishing off the last of them," Gamora added as Peter deactivated his mask and got to his feet. "They should be here soon. We'll —"

She was cut off by a whip-fast arrow that embedded itself into the big sword-wielder who was lying on the ground close to Peter. He went over and grabbed the arrow, ignoring the lug's whimpers while wrenching the arrow out of his side. When Peter held it up, he noticed it had a small packet with a bandage attached to it, as well as a note in Yondu's scrawl.

_Can't be there right now, got some business of my own that needs attending. You take care of yourself, OR ELSE_

Snorting derisively, Peter said to himself, “Yeah, or else what?” Then he noticed there was more written on the back of the note:

_I’ll knock you out and drown you in soup until you’re as healthy as a Silhallyl bull. Cept for the rabies._

Peter ducked his head as he let go of the arrow; in mid-air, it seemed to bob once as a sign of farewell, then tore up into the sky. Peter watched it disappear into the clouds, then opened the packet containing the bandage.

“I think you might actually be enjoying this,” Gamora said, starting to smile.

“Yeah, well, so’s your face,” Peter retorted, putting the bandage on his pinky.

"Yes, my face is enjoying this, too," she said, her grin widening, and Groot nodded.

* * *

6.

The boss was sitting in his chair, as usual, barely paying attention to Kraglin and the others as they celebrated another victory. Kraglin was watching him, though. He always kept an eye out for Yondu.

Which was why Kraglin wasn't the least bit surprised when the boss' eyes lit up and he got to his feet, checking his pockets for items as he headed out of the captain's deck.

“Quill again?” Kraglin asked as Yondu passed by him.

“Yeah. Won't be long, but you're in charge while I'm gone. Anyone tries to kill anyone else, kill 'em.”

“Sure thing, but..." Kraglin shook his head. "Quill sure can't seem to keep himself out of trouble."

“Well," Yondu said, "dumb kid’s lucky he's got me around to pull him outta it."

Without another word, he strode into the small, adjacent compartment and closed the hatch behind him. Kraglin watched, sighing as one of the new guys joined him.

“Hey, pretty good haul tonight. Wait, what the - What the hell is the boss doing?"

"Well, from where I'm standing, it looks like he's opening the airlock," Kraglin said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms as if to challenge the new meat to defy him.

"Why?" he sputtered, dropping his bottle onto the floor of the ship.

"Gonna go rescue one of our previous members. He's been gettin' a kick out of it lately," Kraglin explained as they looked on through the window. Yondu tapped a few buttons on the side panel and grinned at them before the airlock behind him opened and he was sucked out into the inky blackness of space.

"But he doesn’t have a _suit_ , or anything.”

Kraglin shrugged. “Figures. You just don't understand, do you?"

"No, I - I really don't."

"Well, someone like Yondu, doing what he's doing for his own... Doesn't really _need_ anything, 'cept what's powering him on the inside." Kraglin waved to Yondu, who was making swimming motions in the direction of Quill's nearby ship. Closing the outer entrance hatch, Kraglin chuckled and began to walk away.

" _What_?" The newcomer sounded awful desperate now, like his head was about to explode.

Kraglin turned back to look at him.

"It's love, you idiot,” he said, lifting his sleeve to wipe a tear from his eye.  “Love.”


End file.
